


The Consulate in Hades

by Prochytes



Category: Black Panther (2018), Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Blacklist (US TV), The Punisher (TV 2017), Torchwood
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prochytes/pseuds/Prochytes
Summary: Five times Dinah Madani met dangerous people, and thought about the opportunities, and the ethics, of her new job.
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the whole runs of _The Punisher_ , _Torchwood_ , and _Daredevil_. Dark themes.

“So, any questions?” said Everett Ross. The delivery, Dinah thought, was nicely judged. It held notes of “any substantive query will, of course, be addressed, because I’m a seasoned intelligence officer, and take my job seriously”, but also of “it’s seven p. m. and I could use a beer, so think long and hard before offering ‘more an observation than a question’”. She made a mental note to copy it for her own briefings. 

“Are we sure that the War Dogs would share intel on potential threats to the state visit?” she asked. 

Ross nodded approvingly. “We are not. It’s a risk. On the other hand, the Dogs have upped their game in recent years on neutralizing dangers to Wakandan royalty. When Wakandan royalty doesn’t beat them to it, that is. Anything else?”

Dinah shook her head. 

“Between us,” Ross started packing his briefcase, “I’m most concerned that some rookie will forget the protocol that doesn’t allow Princess Shuri to be left unattended in the presence of any electronics more complicated than an LED. She sees that time Tony Stark hacked S.H.I.E.L.D. in fourteen seconds as her very own ice-bucket challenge.” He snapped the locks shut. “On another topic, has your Sokovian operation been green-lit?”

“Not yet. The op’s looking dicey. Still gathering intel.”

“Good luck with that.” Ross leaned on his case, looking distant. “It always comes back to Sokovia, doesn’t it? The Sokovia Accords were why Rogers went rogue. May you never see, Agent Madani, the shit that rains down when a living legend soldier goes off the reservation.”

“That ship has sailed,” said Dinah.


	2. Chapter 2

“… so, the bomb squad finds this body-bag in Time Square, holding a mind-wiped woman, starkers, with tattoos. You’ve not seen this show?”

“I have not,” said Dinah.

“The lass is proper gorgeous. Reminds me of a sword-fight I was once in on a rainbow. Long story – fun story – not exactly relevant right now. You’re sure you haven’t seen the show?”

“I don’t watch much television,” said Dinah. “I live in the ‘Ow’.”

“Don’t you mean ‘Live in the Now’?”

Dinah rubbed the scar on her scalp. “No.”

“It’s on the channel with all the inaccurate police procedurals. Those get on my nerves – on yours, too, most likely. And don’t get me started on the alien abduction ones…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Dinah. It had become ever clearer, in the course of this interrogation, that the real challenge with the Welshwoman who called herself “Yvonne Palliser” was getting her to stop. Even when she was hand—cuffed to a table, in what she insisted on calling a “beige site”. 

“None of that would fly in Wales. The tattoos would be spelt wrong, like with Posh and Becks. If you work security at the Pleasure Park on Barry Island, a woman wearing a body-bag with a hazy sense of personal identity is just a standard hen night. It’d be a short show…”

Dinah’s ’phone beeped. She looked down at it.

“… almost as short as this one.” The Welshwoman watched Dinah’s brows draw together. “That will be from Assistant Director Matheson, saying you have to spring me. Swearily.”

Dinah glowered; reached across the table; and released the handcuffs. The Welshwoman stood and rubbed her wrists. 

“What was your mission?” Dinah asked. 

The Welshwoman arched an eyebrow. “Why would you believe anything I say? You know you can’t trust me further than you can throw me.”

“I can throw a fit woman your size quite some distance,” said Dinah, evenly, “just so long as most of it is down.”

“I don’t doubt it.” The Welshwoman smiled, as she met Dinah’s gaze. She had a smile like Amy’s, and eyes like Frank’s. “Maybe we’ll dance, some day.”

“Why were you in Sokovia?”

The smile disappeared. “The Sons of Sokovia. I thought that those sociopathic shits were running… exotic shipments. They aren’t – just guns, drugs, and children. That puts them outside the sketchy zone of my jurisdiction. If you’re gunning for them, I hope you nail them.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good to hear.” The Welshwoman paused in the doorway. “Tell Rex that I still owe him some laverbread.”


	3. Chapter 3

“… and that concludes what I know about the Sons of Sokovia. Never have I found the appellation ‘freedom fighter’ more inappropriate, except when I was on the tenth grade debate team and Ronnie Epstein was taking his stand against compulsory seat-belts.” Raymond Reddington rose. “That reminds me: I must look up Ronnie’s widow.”

“Thank you, Mr. Reddington,” said Dinah. “You’ve been most helpful.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Agent Madani. Do keep this little _tête à tête_ between us, though. Harold is under the impression I’m a one-Man guy.”

“Yes.” Dinah watched as Reddington adjusted his hat. “How did you work that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Wilson Fisk,” said Dinah, “once put an FBI field office to work for him. He hadn’t told them he was still an active crime lord. _You_ managed to do it even though you had.”

“Ah, dear Wilson. A shrewd operator, but not a people person. His handling of his employees has always left something to be desired, which set him up for the least successful wedding night since _Frankenstein_. Wilson always forgets: a lunatic is for life, not just for Christmas.” The pale eyes were appraising. “Speaking of which: how is Frank Castle?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Dinah held his gaze. “Does The Punisher have a number on that famous list?”

“No. I’d rather my little taskforce stayed intact. Don’t noise that abroad either, Agent Madani.” Reddington touched his hat to Dinah, and strolled towards the door. “It wouldn’t do for them to know I’m sentimental.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Forensic reports were inconclusive. Unsurprising, in light of the explosion. The dominant theory at Interpol is that internal divisions tore the Sons of Sokovia apart. They all took each other out in a messy gun-fight.”

“I see.” Dinah watched Jim Sterling’s fingers move across the chess-board. “‘Dominant theory’, you say. Is there another?”

“It struck me, looking at the evidence,” _bishop takes knight – check; pawn takes bishop,_ “that there was another way to read it.”

“How so?”

“One shooter, from outside – had to be a single man, the flaw in their security wasn’t big – breached the complex, and killed them all.”

“Sounds improbable,” said Dinah. _Pawn takes pawn – check; king stumbles back to safety_. “Surely no one man, alone, could have done all that?”

“I can think of at least two men who could.” Sterling had not looked up from the board. “One of them really doesn’t like guns. It wasn’t him. The other really does.”

Dinah was silent.

“If this was one man, he was efficient; he was brutal; and he enjoyed it. More often, bad guys make the best bad guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry.” Sterling shrugged. “I was thinking of an ongoing argument, with an old friend. Anyway, that’s all academic. Only your agency was aware of that flaw in the security, and we both know that your Sokovia op wasn’t green-lit. There would have to have been a leak. Interpol likes the melt-down theory.” The remaining bishop sliced across the board. “The Sons of Sokovia are cold in the ground; that works for me.”

Dinah glanced at the position. “You win.”

“Yes.” Sterling tossed her a chess-piece. “I do. Drive carefully, Agent Madani.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Hello, Dinah.”

“Shit, Lieberman.” Dinah mopped at the coffee on her trousers. “You scared the fuck out of me. How did you know I like this place?”

“I’m kinda insulted that you have to ask that.” Lieberman handed her a paper towel. “ _Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?_ ”

“If the answer to that question is you, Lieberman, I’m not reassured.”

Lieberman snorted. “Frank’s been abroad, I see.”

“Has he?” Dinah’s head was still bent over her trousers. “Just so you know: you and I don’t share custody of him.”

“I guess not.” Lieberman fiddled with a cinnamon shaker. “How’s work at your new place?”

Dinah shrugged. “It’s work.”

“Still confident you’re doing good?”

“I… don’t know.” Dinah looked up, at last, and bit her lip. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Glad to hear it.” Lieberman drained his cup. Techies and their caffeine, Dinah thought. “If you’d said ‘no’, I’d have had Frank extract you inside a day.”

“What if I’d said ‘yes’?”

“Then I’d have had him extract you inside an hour. You’re in the dark, Dinah, but you’re not of it. The consulate in Hades.”

Dinah fingered the black rook in her pocket. “I hope you’re right.”

FINIS

**Author's Note:**

> The TV show Gwen (or, rather, "Yvonne") erratically describes is _Blindspot_.


End file.
